Skinner's ghosts

Martin glanced at him. 'Maybe he used a payphone. Did you hear coins drop?'

'No, but that's not a give-away any more. They did away with

"Press button A" years ago, on most of them.'

The younger man raised an eyebrow. 'Hey, maybe he used a credit card.'

Skinner glowered across the table. 'Andy, son, I know it's past midnight, and that we're clutching at some very short straws, but really…'

Martin sipped his coffee. 'Miracles happen.'

'No they bloody don't!' Skinner slapped the table, gently.

'Look, it's been a mind-fucker of a night, but let's get a grip of ourselves and start thinking and acting like the serious coppers we are.

'I asked you out here so that the two of us could have a brainstorm, before we call in the Cavalry, so let's get on with it.'

'Can I join in too?' asked Pamela from the doorway. 'Or is this for General Staff only.'

Bob grinned at her, as she leaned against the jamb wearing a 50 teeshirt and his long towelling bathrobe. 'Aye, come on in Sergeant, even though you're out of uniform.'

She looked at him in football top and shorts, then at Martin, in denims, raised her eyebrows in a gesture which said 'Oh yes?', then joined them at the table.

'Right,' said Skinner. 'There are all sorts of potential implications which we can draw from this call. Let's see if we can nail them all down.'

'A question first, surely,' Pamela interrupted. 'Was the call genuine? Could it have been a crank?'

'That's possible. But if it was a crank, bear in mind that the cal was made to an ex-directory number. That means that the perpetrator is either one of my inner circle, with access to that number, or he's gone to some trouble, and possibly some risk, to get it.

'No,' he said, emphatical y, 'I've no doubt that the cal was genuine.

Anyway we have to assume that it was, until we know otherwise. So okay, not a hoax. Next?'

'Why to you?' asked Martin. 'Why did the guy give a personal message to you? I've been the front man in this investigation al along? You've never been involved publicly.'

Skinner nodded. 'Good one. Ideas? Pam?'

She hesitated. 'Wel, you are pretty well known. Think police, think Edinburgh, think Bob Skinner. It could be no more than that, except…'

'… except,' said Martin, 'that it's public knowledge that you have a special connection with this child. After the Lammermuirs air disaster, when wee Mark was the only survivor – which proves incidentally,' he interjected, triumphantly, 'that miracles do happen it was you who rescued him from the sinking cockpit of the plane, in the middle of a reservoir.

'That was al over the papers at the time. Everybody knows about you saving that wee boy's life.'

'So?'

'So… It could explain why the kidnapper would choose to make contact with you.'

Skinner smiled, and his eyes narrowed. 'And could it explain why he took the child?'

Martin stared at him. 'You mean, could he have taken the child as an act of revenge against you?'

'Well? Could he? You'll concede I've made a few potential enemies over the years.'

Martin nodded. 'Even leaving out the ghosts of the dead ones.'

'Okay, suppose someone wants to hurt me,' the DCC went on.

'What are his choices?

'He could come at me in person. But maybe he lacks the physical 51 capability, the resources, or just the bottle for that. He could target my daughter. But she lives with you, and you're as dangerous a customer as I am. He could target my wife and son. But they're a long way off, in the States.

'So, how does he do something that's going to hurt me to the heart?' Skinner paused. 'Maybe, just maybe, he remembers last year's publicity; he remembers the bond between me and wee Mark, and he says, "That's the way." So he keeps Leona's house under observation; he traces her movements; he waits, and he waits; he picks his time, and he kidnaps Mark. Not Skinner's son, but a surrogate.'

Pamela touched his arm. 'But why kill the mother?'

He turned and looked at her. 'Not Sarah, but a surrogate,' he said, quietly, then paused. 'What do you think of the proposition, Chief Superintendent? Sergeant?'

Martin frowned, then rose from the table. 'Let me think about it for a minute,' he said, moving towards the living room. 'Pam,' he smiled over his shoulder. 'How about some more coffee? You are on my staff, after al.'

'Yes sir,' she said smartly, as Skinner fol owed his friend out of the kitchen.

In the other room, Martin was waiting, his smile gone. 'Bob, I accept your theory. Not as a main line of investigation, perhaps, but as a credible scenario. However, should you be right, have you thought of another implication which flows from it?'

'What's that?'

The younger man paused. 'The proposition that Leona might have been attacked instead of Sarah. After this weekend's publicity, if that is true, the killer has a new target.' He jerked a thumb towards the kitchen.

Skinner's face darkened. 'Whistling Christ, Andy, you're right!'

He nodded, absently, to himself. 'From now on, she'd better not leave my side.' And then, like sunlight over a field as a cloud blows away, his expression changed as a new thought came to him.

'Unless,' he said, his voice rising. 'He's already using Pam to hurt me. Think of it. For the past few months she's hardly been out of my sight while we've been off duty, or out of yours while she's been at work. In reality, that would make her an even tougher target than Sarah orAlex. But suppose, my enemy's been watching me, he's seen the two of us together, and made the connection.'

'Yes,' said Martin, comprehending, racing alongside Skinner's thinking. 'We know al about Salmon and his story, but we don't know his source. Suppose the kidnapper tipped off Salmon, put him on your trail.'

'That figures, Andy. The wee bastard's never had a decent exclusive 52 of his own before. He could even have used it to land his job on the Spotlight.'

'And something else,' added the Chief Superintendent. 'Salmon cal ed you tonight, and so did the kidnapper; both on your ex-directory number. Is it possible that the kidnapper gave Salmon the number?'

It had become a game now, one they had often played before, chasing an idea, worrying at it, throwing in possibilities, adding tints and colours until a picture emerged. Skinner beamed. 'Or did Salmon give it to him,' he asked, 'even without knowing why he would use it?'

His friend shook his head. 'Don't let's stop there, Bob? Let's give that slimeball the benefit of no doubt at al. Or did Salmon know why he would use it?'

'I couldn't believe that,' said Skinner, doubtful y, 'not even of him.'

'Neither do I,' said Martin, as Pamela came into the room carrying a cafetiere, 'but it gives us all the reason we need, and more, to arrest the wee bastard. And in the process to leak – accidentally of course

– the name of the man who's assisting us with our investigation of a murder and kidnap.'

Bob threw back his big grey-mopped head and laughed, heartily, for what seemed to each of the others to be the first time in an age.

'Oh yes,' he chuckled. 'I'm going to love that. Especially when I play my tape back to him.'

Andy and Pamela stared at him. 'What tape?' asked Martin.

'Something even you didn't know, mate… and, incidental y, which the pair of you stil don't know, even after tonight.

'It's an open secret now that, as the Secretary of State's security adviser, I'm part of MI5. But the fact that all MIS officers' home phones are tapped: that's a very closed secret indeed!'

He punched Martin gently on the shoulder. 'Let's nick him, pal. I suggest that you have McGuire do it: he's hard enough to frighten stone, and besides, being lifted by Special Branch always concent!. ites the mind.' He smiled, as an afterthought came to him. 'Tel Mario to take Mcl henney with him, just for added effect.